Buying A State
by hopefulmemoir
Summary: The Russian government is convinced they will eventually lose Russian America. Rather than wait for the inevitable, they sell the land to the USA. Between nations, the process is more complex than just signing a piece of paper and exchanging cash. America/Russia.


Russia sells Alaska.

This is America/Russia. If you do not like slash you will not like this.

The story contains explicit content and adult situations (slash: anal)

I do not own any of the characters unless otherwise specified. This story is not for monetary gain.

Enjoy!

~o-_1867_-o~

America grumbled lowly to himself when his boss left the room. The American wasn't particularly happy that he had to be here. With the civil war still fresh in his mind, America was stressed, and the scars from the conflict still sensitive. Many of his citizens also didn't agree with the purchase and insulted the deal. Alas, the transaction went through and his people purchased the land.

He glanced around the fairly dark room. An oil lamp on the end table offered some light, though the dark corners were shrouded in shadow. It wasn't a fancy bedchamber. The nation could smell mould from the soggy conditions outside. The room was windowless for a few reasons. The land up north was cold and windows created drafts that were better left avoided. During the long summer months twenty-four hour daylight was also largely inconvenient for sleeping. The blond impatiently tapped his finger on his arm as he shifted from foot to foot, bored now of surveying the bedchamber. He wasn't left alone long; Russia, the large, silver-haired, burly nation entered soon after. He smiled at America with that creepy childish grin.

"Готовы начать?" America furrowed his brow.

"I don't speak Russian." He grumbled. "English, please."

"Ready to begin?"

"Mm…" The younger male nodded. He wasn't but didn't dare say so. He didn't want to look weak in front of the larger nation! America was a hero, not a coward.

"You have done this before da?"

"Of course!" America exclaimed loudly, unnecessarily. Russia chuckled as he made his way to the bed. He was so much _older_; it was a bit intimidating to the smaller male. Not that it mattered; America was going to be the one acquiring land. The larger nation sat down and the bed creaked as he did because of his size. America huffed and crossed the room. Russia started removing the scarf from his neck. The Yankee blushed at the implication.

"We cannot do this clothed." Russia pointed out. America scrunched his face up and started cautiously stripping. The American had stopped paying attention to Russia as he removed his clothes, which apparently was a mistake. His wrists were snatched and brought towards a strong chest.

"H-hey!" America jerked back. Russia laughed in amusement.

"You are sure you sleep with man before?"

"Y-yes…"

"_Nation_, America. Human do not count." America grunted. "So you have not?"

"My boss has never made me before." America offered. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either. America hadn't slept with a male nation, or human male; he wasn't about to admit that. He didn't need the older nation condescending him. Russia chuckled.

"Do not worry. I will be not offended." The larger male had removed his tops and exposed a rather scarred chest. America knew what scars on nations meant and the pale one across Russia's neck was concerning.

"Where did you-"

"We will not make personal, da?" He was methodical and purposeful in his motions. His words rung true; their encounter here meant nothing to the larger nation. It was merely an exchange of land. Russia stood to drop his pants. They fell to the floor in a formless pile. America blushed at the sight of the other man. The oil lamp in the room cast a glow over Russia's pale skin, giving the man a strange colouration. America reached forward and touched his gloved hands over the other male's shoulders. Russia didn't protest, much to the relief of the smaller nation. He was nervous and at the moment doubted he could find arousal. Although the Russian didn't look like he had a lot of muscle definition, there was no mistaking the strength beneath his gloved fingers. America meanwhile was much leaner with more obvious, visible muscles.

Russia sat down and let the American's fingers and palms flitter across his body. America suddenly felt frightened. He remembered when his brother and he had fought, how terrified he had been at the thought of losing land. Russia didn't look scared, but then, Russia only ever held childish joy or contempt. He could be scared and was just hiding it. The Yankee huffed to himself. He needed to suck it up and get this over with. America set to work on his pants; he let them fall and stepped out of them carefully. Russia lied back on the bed, his violet eyes never leaving the smaller male. The northerly nation looked a bit awkward on the small bed. His bulky body only just fit. It made America feel small, staring at the man as he was. America was at least half a foot shorter and much leaner. The Yankee stood there, at a loss on what to do. "There is oil in here…" Russia reached his hand and twisted his burly body to fish around in one of the tables. The largest nation retrieved a bottle. America stared at it when it was held out to him. "You use this, da?"

"Where?" Russia sighed. America protested when his wrist was grabbed.

"Take off gloves." Russia growled lowly. America flinched, his flesh bruised under the harsh grip. Russia took his glove off; the younger nation was quick to remove his other glove on his own. Russia then uncorked the oil and poured some on his hand. He grabbed America's fingers and covered them in oil. "Three is good." Russia informed before he brought America's fingers to his entrance. The blond squeaked and blushed. He tried to pull away but Russia kept a harsh grip, worsening the contusions. "This is how land is annexed. It will not be official until we do this. The sooner the better, da?"

"I just-" America winced when his throat was grabbed. Russia was glaring.

"Either get to it, or I will take _you_ and USA become no more, da?" The American swallowed thickly and set his fingers at the larger male's entrance. His throat was released. Experimentally he pushed. The muscle resisted at first, not that America was surprised, but with constant pressure gave way. Russia grunted upon being entered. The smaller nation worked his finger gently in and out until the ring loosened. "Add another." The larger male commanded. America wasn't normally one to obey, but he wanted to get this over with so he pushed a second finger in.

His free hand loosely held Russia's hip as he worked the pucker further. Soon the Russian was panting below him, and America's blue eyes flittered over the body presented to him. Russia had closed his eyes, his cheeks held a blush of arousal and his chest was rising and falling faster. As America's gaze dared lower, he saw a hard, heavy cock between the male's spread legs. The Yankee blushed and returned his focus to the task at hand. He spread his fingers some until he could get a third in. America continued to work the man beneath him when his fingers brushed something and a string of Russian was elicited from the larger male. America stopped moving, worried. Russia opened his violet eyes narrowly to glare at the younger male who clenched his jaw. "Ready. You can remove fingers now." America blushed and swallowed thickly before he extracted the digits. He quickly worked himself with some oil. "I can turn on my belly." Russia offered when America stared blankly.

"No-no, you're…we're not…animals…" Russia hummed and lifted one leg to America's shoulder. It was a heavy limb, but Russia's lax meaty calf sat comfortably and didn't dig in too much. The larger nation moved his other leg, probably to put it over America's other shoulder, but he was stopped by the smaller male's hand holding him down.

"Finally you take some charge." Russia laughed. "I begin to think I sleeping with woman." America glared as he lined himself up. A breath of air left both of them as the Yankee pushed in. The larger male arched off the bed some, and America's grip on his partner's legs tightened, his nails digging into the pale flesh. He groaned when he sheathed himself completely. Russia lost his childish grin, his face was relaxed and his eyes closed.

"Look at me." America barked. Russia opened his eyes, amusement dancing in them.

"This is not intimate, da?"

"I-I know. But I still want you to look at me."

"Arrogant." Russia grunted; his face going cross for a brief moment. "I am ready." America moved his one hand from the Russian's raised knee to his hip. He shifted experimentally and blushed at the feeling. Russia's pulsing walls were a lot tighter than any woman America had been within. Just as he commanded of the Russian, America held the older man's gaze as he moved. The pace was slow, awkward, clearly novice, but the larger nation was patient and compliant. He made almost no noise; only soft breathing and puffs of air left the larger male. America was sure he was stretching Russia's inner thigh of the leg still on the bed, but the man never complained. Pleasure began coiling in America's belly. His harsh grip on Russia's hip moved to the older nation's arousal, but his wrist was snatched. "No need to." America yanked his hand free and grabbed Russia anyway as he started fisting the larger male. "This is not intimate."

"I know!" America's pace quickened and his thrusts grew more forceful, not out of confidence or for pleasure but were driven by anger. "I don't care-you're going to enjoy this." Russia laughed, outright, much to the embarrassment of the Yankee.

"Release does not mean I enjoy this, America." The smaller nation flinched and removed his hand to grip Russia's hip. "Hurry up, da?" America obliged again. Unfortunately, the northerly nation had a point. This was a situation of circumstance brought upon them by their bosses, neither had much choice and the sooner it was done the sooner they could move on. America gritted his teeth and quickened his pace but he felt numb to the sensations of pleasure. "You do not need to impress me with stamina."

"I'm not trying to! Just shut up!" America shouted. The outburst surprised the Russian, though he didn't show it. America chewed his lip and started thrusting harder.

"Stop."

"No."

"America, you are hurting me." The confession brought a halt to the Yankee's movements. He glanced down and saw blood. He closed his gaping jaw and focused on violet eyes. Russia didn't show he was in pain. His face was relaxed like they were having tea, not sex. "Move slower, da? Perhaps you are over-stimulating yourself."

"I don't want to do this." The younger man admitted.

"It is almost done." America groaned softly and slowly started moving again. His gaze darted over the older male, and it became apparent to the American that Russia had not only bedded a man in this manner, it had likely been forced on him. America grunted and stopped, his blue eyes wavering. "What is wrong now?" Although his tone was light, the American was certain Russia was annoyed.

"I just…" The younger male ducked his head. He gasped when his shoulders were grabbed and he was forced down, his chest awkwardly pressed against the larger nation's chest. Russia fisted the blonde's hair and held him closely.

"Move now." America scowled and tried to put distance between them; this hold _was_ intimate and this encounter wasn't supposed to be. "I will roll over." Russia warned. America huffed and started shifting. If the larger nation flipped them what little control the Yankee had he would lose. His motions were much smaller but the stimulation seemed amplified because of the angle. America moaned into Russia's neck and dug his nails into the man's pale, broad shoulders. Russia was running his hand gently up and down America's spine, encouraging the male's thrusting.

The northerly nation smelt of snow and felt cold, which the American took as a blessing as his body heated from the building pleasure. The Yankee's tongue darted out to lick his lips and he accidentally brushed the pink muscle over the scarred skin. Russia bucked and grunted, and the shift of his hips became more punctuated. The younger male was close, he felt a tightly wound coil burning in his body-and when something warm sprayed on his stomach and Russia's channels tightened the smaller nation moaned as he came. He rode out his orgasm selfishly, uncaring of the Russian's state in his release. America collapsed on top, chest heaving. Russia still had a hold of his hair and he wasn't sure why.

"Why'd you…" America panted, embarrassed.

"I do not need answer, da?" Russia chuckled, back to his childish nature. He didn't need to, the smaller male knew why and that didn't make him feel better. America pushed up and slid out as he did. The larger nation's hand in his hair touched down his shoulder and arm as the younger male moved away. It was an odd, borderline intimate, unexpected touch that sent a chill down the American's spine. Brief as it may have been, the caress conveyed a simple longing message that the younger nation didn't understand and he decided he didn't want to.

"Umm…" America felt heavier with the new acquisition of land. Alaska was large, larger than any state currently in the USA. The blond watched the larger man with questioning eyes. Russia cleaned himself up with a spare cloth and then grabbed his clothes.

"It is done." Russia looked at America. His violet eyes were void of any emotion at all, which bothered America more than any malice they could have held.

"I'm sorry." America murmured. He didn't know what else to say but felt compelled to say something. Russia ignored him as he finished getting dressed. "Please-"

"This was not personal." Russia casually wrapped his scarf around his neck, hiding his scars. "You have land now, nothing else is being needed." The American trembled. He was near tears, but heroes don't cry, not over business deals. America flinched when he heard the door and the young nation was left alone in the dimly lit room. He shakily grabbed a cloth and cleaned himself up. New people, new voices became his and the buzz of their desires felt so strange. The Yankee dressed quickly, uncaring of whether his clothes were on properly or not. He just wanted to get out of here and bathe…it wasn't Russia who made him feel dirty, America was certain he would have felt this way no matter _who_ had been his partner. It just felt wrong, all of it did, and he did. The American composed himself, swallowing any doubts or feelings. With a newfound resolve the nation left the room to speak with his boss.

~o-o-o~

_AN: Translations:_ Готовы начать: _Ready to begin_

_I used Google translate so if it's wrong I'm sorry._

_Not entirely sure what compelled me to write this, but the idea wouldn't leave me alone until I did. I guess because most countries took the land they wanted, whereas Russia sold Alaska to the USA. They wanted to get something for the state._

_America may or may not be a bit OOC. He's younger, that's my justification for his insecurities._

_As for the roles, I don't particularly like uke/bottom/submissive!Russia, but I thought it made more sense for America to 'take' Russia in this situation._

_HM_


End file.
